Letters to my son
by Caitira
Summary: Thanks to something a bit wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey, Alice Longbottom learns that her son will grow up without a mother to tell him that he is loved. So she finds a way to tell him. Follow his journey, learn to be brave with Neville.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a fic based on events that happen in the books, so apologies for any confusion caused if events do not match up with films. ****That said, in the books Neville apparently ends up with Hannah Abbot. And that just won't do. **

**Hope you enjoy the story!**

**Summary:** Thanks to something a bit…wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey, Alice Longbottom finds out that in the future she will never know her son, and he will never know her. She writes her brave boy a series of letters, so that he will know he is loved.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 – Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey.<strong>

Alice Longbottom enjoyed her life. She was in her seventh year of Hogwarts, she wanted to go into healing, she had a wonderful boyfriend called Frank, and a fantastic best friend called Lilly.

Oh Alice knew she had her faults – she was shy at times, and had an annoying habit of sneezing an inopportune moments. But she was who she was. Frank loved her, and that was what mattered. He made her feel….faultless.

On the Monday that it happened, Alice and Lilly had just had breakfast. The boys were off at an early morning quidditch practice, which had given the two girls the chance to enjoy some much needed 'girly time' before breakfast. Lilly loved breakfast, but Alice wasn't huge on it. She couldn't really eat until she'd been awake for a few hours. So, for this purpose, she tended to keep a secret stash of brightly wrapped sweets in her bag. Neatly smoothing out and collecting the sweet wrappers when she was done.

Sometimes, when Alice was in a really good mood, she's use a tiny pin to scratch messages into the sweet foil. Frank could count on receiving at least 3 sweet wrappers a week, with tiny love hears sketched into them.

After breakfast, Alice and Lilly had set off to charms. They were giggling secretly at something James had said to Lilly last night, when Alice thought she heard a whisper. Turning round fast, she looked behind her, but nobody was there. As she turned, her bag split open, spilling books, parchment, quills and sweets all over the floor.

Alice sighed, and bent down to pick up her supplies. Lilly stooped to help as well, but Alice held up her hand.

"There's no sense in both of us being late, Lills. You go ahead and let the professor know I'll be late."

Lilly nodded, and turning on her heel, walked away.

Harry tucked his wand into his pocket, and watched his mother walk away. He longed to go after her- hug her, talk to her, get to know her- but that was not what he was here for. That would change the time line too much.

Stepping out in front of the short, blonde girl, he held out his hand to help her up.

"Oh-James- thanks." Alice gushed, not knowing that he had been there. She stood up, looking curiously at whom she thought was her best friend's boyfriend, wondering why he was not wearing his school robes.

"My name is not James." Harry stated, simply.

Alice's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Then…who are you?" She asked, hesitantly. She was from a lighter time. A time when you asked questions first, and cursed later. Harry was jealous of her naivety.

"My name is Harry, and I need to talk to you." Harry stood with his arms folded, slightly taller than he was, an odd look in his eyes.

"Ok…" Alice said slowly. "I'm supposed to be in charms though."

"Trust me, this is more important." Harry said, somewhat impatiently. It was quite disconcerting – but in a way nice – to meet someone who didn't know him. Of course, no one would in this time.

He took the time to really look at Alice. She had Neville's face – but long, blonde hair, and kind eyes. She had dimples. His mother's best friend.

Harry tried not to connect the girl he saw in front of him now, to the woman he knew was lying in St. Mungo's, wasting away.

He lead Alice to the room of requirement. Today it was furnished with comfy sofas, and a fire, and a small table. Taking a seat on one of the squishy sofas, Harry leaned forward and waited for Alice to take a seat too.

"What is this place?" She asked, looking round in awe.

"It's called the room of requirement. Fittingly, it will provide you with what you require." Harry sighed, and ran his hands through his hair. This was going to be difficult.

"My name is Harry Potter." He stated simply, and watched her reaction.

"Oh, are you related to James?"

Harry smiled.

"Yes. I'm his son."

He knew that he was meddling in time, but he didn't care. He needed to make Alice understand how important this was.

She gasped.

"But…you're older than him!"

"Which brings me to my second point. I'm also not from this time." Alice eyed him sceptically, and started to laugh.

"OK James, whatever you say. I must say you have gone a long way to make this prank convincing."

"Alice, I'm not James." Harry said quietly. "And I wish I didn't have to come to this time, and visit you, but I believe it is important. For your son."

Alice stopped laughing suddenly, and looked at Harry strangely.

"Prove it." Was all she said, watching him expectantly. Harry groaned. He knew he would probably get asked this, and hadn't really been able to think of any way to prove himself, except one.

A tiny, tiny dose of veratisim that would last only minutes.

He showed it to Alice.

"I'll drink this, and then tell you again my name, and the year I was born. Will you believe me then?"

Alice nodded, not trusting herself to speak. This strange man, who looked so much like James, she didn't dare to believe that he was from the future. How was that even possible?

Gulping down the drops of potion, Harry looked straight at her and recited his name and date of birth. He told her again that he was from the future, then sat back, waiting for her to digest this information.

Alice had gasped, her hand over her mouth, looking white as a sheet.

"How….are you here?" She asked, in a choked voice.

"It's a bit….complicated. It's wibbly wobbly, timey wimey. But I won't be here long. Two hours at the most." Harry looked down at his feet. He'd so wanted to go and see his parents while he was here, but he knew there was not the time. And this was about doing something good for Neville.

"Why are you here?" She asked, her voice stronger now, leaning forward. "And why do you need to talk to me?"

"Like I said," Harry began, patiently. "It's about your son."

Alice shook her head in disbelief. One day, she was going to be a mummy. It had been her dream since she'd been little, to have a real baby of her own, to love.

"In my time," Harry said quietly, "Neville- your son- is a hero."

"Won't you telling me this mess up the time line or something?" Alice asked quietly, even though she was desperate to hear more.

"Somewhat, yes. I'm going to tell you what Neville has done for the world. What he has been through. I'm also going to tell you why he never knew you. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I'm not going to give you enough information to change what happens. You won't be able to."

Alice let out a small sob, and looked at Harry angrily.

"Why not? Why are you even telling me if I can't change it?"

Harry dropped his head. He wished he could tell her exactly the night when she would be tortured, so that she could avoid it, but that would change the world.

"Alice." He said calmly. "In my time there is so much….darkness. I hope that by telling you, I can do something good, and give someone who is important to me, your son, a little more light in his life."

"He's not…..your boyfriend is he?" Alice asked tentatively. Harry had looked so sad when he spoke of her son, he clearly had great affection for him.

"No." Harry chuckled. The poor girl, she was so young. She did not understand what going through a battle could do to strengthen friendships.

"No, he's not. Just a good friend. Who deserves a little bit of goodness for himself."

"Ok." Alice let out a long breath. She'd have to apologise to Lilly for not going to charms later.

She sat back in her chair, and let the mysterious Harry Potter tell her about all the great things that her son had done. How brave he had been. How he'd been bullied, and raised by her aunt, who was lovely but strict. How Neville would visit her and Frank in hospital as often as he could. How Neville had had to live a life, knowing that his parents would never recognise him. Or hug him. Or tell him that they loved him.

Harry told her about Luna. And about how Neville was the best Herbology student he had ever met. And about how good he was at defence, and the brave things he had done whilst at school with the Carrows. In short, Harry told Alice everything he knew about Neville, and she sat there, mostly in silence, drinking it in.

Alice had cried, and screamed when Harry would not tell her why, or how it had come to be, that she and Frank did not recognise their child. But in the end, she realised that Harry would not tell her, and by asking she was only wasting time.

Tear tracks dried on her face, and Alice sat, hugging her knees. Harry did not speak, and silence echoed between the two.

"What can I do?" She asked Harry, who was still sat opposite her.

"Find a way to give him some light." Was all Harry said.

He rose, and walked across the room. On his way out, he rested his hand on her shoulder, and squeezed it gently.

Saying nothing, he left the room.

Alice would never see Harry Potter again. At times, she wondered if it had been a dream. But looking at James and Lilly, and how in love they were, she had no doubt that one day they would have a son.

Alice was determined. She could not change what was going to happen. But she was going to find a way to make her son feel loved, if it was the last thing she did.

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><p><strong>AN: Well, this is my first chapter. Let me know what you think! More chapters to follow, reviews please :) They make me happy!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm incredibly uncool. I have no understanding of the word 'bamf' ****Someone enlighten me? **

**By the way, I know this chapter is short. It's laying the groundwork for future chapters, I promise they'll be longer!**

**Anyways, hope you enjoy!**

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><p><em>Dear Neville<em>

_I don't quite know how to explain this to you. And I don't want you to be angry with me, and change how things are, because I couldn't. And believe me I tried. _

_I know you probably won't be old enough to understand what I'm writing, but one day you will. And hopefully your grandmother will read these to you until you can for yourself. _

_I know that in your time your father and I do not recognise you. It kills me to know that. _

_Many years ago, a man came to Hogwarts, and told me the future. He told me you needed me. You needed to know that we loved you. _

_I didn't believe him at first. But today you were born. And I know that if what he said is true, we won't know you for much longer. So I wanted to write you these letters, just in case. _

_Today you were born. And you were the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. You look just like your father. We fell in love with you straight away. If I could, I would spend every day telling you that your mummy loves you. _

_But I can't. _

_So I hope, that for now, you can understand what I mean when I say that even though I don't know who you will be yet, what you will be like as a person, I love you. No matter what you become, you will always be my son, and I will always be proud of you._

_On each letter I've written a time that you should open it. The man who told me about the future, told me about things that will happen in your life. And hopefully what I write to you will provide you some comfort. _

_Please, my darling baby boy, remember that your daddy and I love you. And always will, even if we can't say it. _

_All my love, _

_Your mummy Alice. _

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><p>A five year old Neville sat in his bedroom, holding the letter in his hands. His grandmother had read it to him many times, it was his most treasured possession.<p>

Every time he had to go to St. Mungo's, and sit with the two adults he barely recognised, he would remember the letter. Remember that these people, who did not know him, once loved him. And said that they always would.

Neville didn't understand everything in the letter. He didn't know what his mother meant by the man who had told her about the future. But he understood the word love. He'd sleep with the letter under his pillow, on nights when he felt particularly sad.

It was just as well the letter said that his parents would love him no matter what, because his uncle thought he was a squib. He couldn't imagine how much it would let his grandmother down if he was. She was always talking about how great his parents were. How powerful. Neville already felt like a let down.

The letter said love. It would just be nice, to have his mother sit up in bed, hug him, and sat it out loud. Just once.

Just once.

There were a whole stack of letters waiting for Neville at home. There was one for every birthday, and every Christmas.

Neville also knew that once he started Hogwarts, there would be more. He had looked through the stack, at the words on the envelopes. Slowly, as he had learnt to read, he started to understand what they said.

"For the day when you catch the Hogwarts express for the first time."

"For the day you take your first flying lesson."

"For the day I give you a sweet wrapper when you visit."

Neville looked forward to opening these letters. Every time he got to read one, he felt a little more loved. A little less alone. A little more like he was really wanted by his parents.

Every time he visited, and they stared at him with a vacant look, asking who he was, he hurt a little more inside.

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><p><strong>AN: Let me know what you think! Please review! More to come soon! Longer too :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you to all my lovely reviewers and readers! For those who are curious, I plan to follow Neville's journey through from the first to the 7****th**** book, and maybe further. I think having his mother's letters would create a butterfly effect type thing, where a small change leads to a big difference in life :) That said, this is a very canon fic. **

_Hello Neville_

_As I write this, you are sound asleep in your cot. Looking at you, you are so sweet. I think I was meant to be a mother. I've been helping your father with his Auror work, and before that I was a healer, but having you….it blows my mind. I didn't know love like this existed. Being your mother is what I was destined to do, I think. _

_Today, you will be boarding the Hogwarts express for the first time. And just so that you know, had you been a squib, I would still have loved you. You'd still be my darling boy. _

_Neville – try not to worry. Trevor will turn up. Friends will turn up. You will have a brilliant time at school, I promise. _

_I don't care if you don't get fantastic marks. As long as you try your best, and you are happy, that is all that matters to me. I know that one day I won't be able to give you advice, and tell you everything will be ok. But it will be, so don't panic. Don't be scared of the professors. Don't be scared to just be you, you are brilliant as you are _

_It's really strange writing to you, imagining what you are like as an eleven year old. For now you are still my baby boy. I wonder if you'll still look more like me than you do your father. He's the handsome one, so really I should hope so. _

_The only comfort that I have, is that your father and I are trying to make the world a better place for you. It just breaks my heart that we will not be able to join you. We're doing everything we can to fight you know who, as we know we might not be around to protect you later in life. Though lets face it, we'd fight you know who even if we were going to live. It's just the right thing to do. _

_If you look in the envelope, there are two pictures. One of me, and one of your dad, on our first days at Hogwarts. We were both scared, just like I imagine you will be. Please know, son that being brave isn't about never being scared. It's about knowing that you are scared, and doing the right thing anyway. _

_Please believe that our love will always be with you. _

_Love, _

_Mum_

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><p>Neville took a deep breath, his eyes closed. He could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. Creeping one eye open, there was nothing for it. He was going to have to be brave, and take the barrier between platforms nine and ten at a run. His Grandmother smiled kindly at him, giving him a little push forward. Neville knew he'd have to go now, or she'd get impatient, and annoyed. It was only a barrier. He could do this.<p>

Checking that his pet toad Trevor was still in his pocket, Neville launched himself at the barrier, and winced. But the blow he was expecting never came. When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in front of a scarlet steam train, amid the hustle and bustle of platform 9 and ¾.

His grandmother waited for him as he struggled to load his trunk onto the train, all the while being very careful not to squash his familiar. Walking back over to her, he felt slightly awkward. They'd never really had to say goodbye before.

He couldn't help but wish that she was his mother. That Alice and Frank were standing there, waiting to engulf him in hugs, smother him in embarrassing kisses, and tell him that they would be proud of him whatever house he was in.

Neville's grandmother placed her hands on Neville's shoulders, and looked him up and down.

"Well, my boy." She began, in a firm voice. "Off to Hogwarts. Be careful. And," She lowered her voice so that only Neville could hear. "Do try to learn something, won't you. I just want you to do well."

Neville nodded, looking at the floor. He loved his grandmother. But how could he ever live up to the reputation of his mother. He'd never be as good as she, or his father had been. He was just an idiot who couldn't even produce accidental magic, other than bouncing, and even then that was only when forced by his uncle.

Giving his grandmother a quick, slightly awkward hug, Neville said goodbye, and turned to board the train. What seemed like hundreds of boys with red hair, though in reality was far fewer, rushed onto the train last minute, nearly knocking Neville over. Climbing on board at last, Neville stood by the door and waved goodbye to his grandmother out the window. His other hand was in one of his pockets, gently curled around the pictures of his parents that had come with the letter. If Neville squinted hard enough, he could imagine that it was them he was waving goodbye to.

If only. He thought, bitterly.

Checking that Trevor the toad was still in his other pocket – he was – Neville started to move his way down the train. He had barely gone five paces, when he accidentally walked into a girl who had the bushiest hair he had ever seen. Apologising for nearly knocking her over, he stood quite still. Breathe. Breathe.

Remembering back to his parents letters, he took one final breath, calmed down, and asked the bushy haired girl's name. Just like his parents, he would not be scared.

"I'm Hermione." She beamed. "I'm not from a magical family, really, I'm finding this all so interesting so far. I've even seen some people on the train doing magic! Who are you?" Talking very fast, it took Neville a moment to digest what she'd said.

"I'm Neville." He began, shyly. Feeling around in his pocket, he went to introduce Trevor, hoping that toads wouldn't freak her out.

Realising that Trevor, however, wasn't in his pocket, he let out a small groan, which seemed to startle the girl.

"What's wrong?" She asked, sounding concerned.

"My pet toad, I can't find him." Neville said, knowing how cross his grandmother would be if he'd already messed up.

Hermione smiled, and patted him on the arm. "Don't worry we'll find him. I bet he's just gone into one of the compartments. Really, toads are like that you know, they like quiet spaces. Let's look in here."

Pulling open the doors to the nearest compartment, Hermione walked in, and Neville followed. The compartment had in it a pale boy, with bleach blonde hair, styled back away from his face. There were also two larger, more….lurching lads, and a girl, with long dark hair.

"Excuse me, have you seen a toad in here?" Hermione asked confidently, standing with her hands on her hips, looking around.

The blonde boy leaned forward in his seat, as though surveying the two newcomers.

"And who might you two be?" He asked, a slight sneer in his voice.

"Oh," flustered, Hermione started to speak quickly. "I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Neville….?" She turned around to look at him, realising she hadn't asked his last name.

Neville already knew this was going to go badly, he had a feeling he knew exactly who this blonde boy was.

"Longbottom." He said simply, allowing Hermione to enquire as to who the people in the compartment were.

"Granger." The blonde boy said slowly, looking at her. "That's not a wizarding name, now is it?" Hermione shook her head, and began to open her mouth, but before she had the chance, the boy had began speaking again.

"In that case, you are not worth my time. Longbottom, now you are more interesting. I'm Draco Malfoy. My friends…." Draco started to grin

"My friends, who aren't here, are from the Lestrange family. Oh, and we mustn't forget Crouch. They say hello." Malfoy leaned back leisurely in his seat, waiting for Neville to react.

Neville knew full well that these were the names of the people who had tortured his parents. He was beginning to get angry, his hand in his pocket, curled around his mother's letter.

He let out a long, calm breath.

Turning to Hermione, he continued to stay calm.

"Hermione, I don't think my toad is here. We should look somewhere else." Nodding, not quite sure what was going on, Hermione left the compartment, expecting Neville to follow.

Just as he did, Malfoy said one last thing.

"How are your parents by the way?" He said it casually, looking at his fingernails, smirking at Neville.

Neville felt as though ice was sitting in his stomach. How anybody could dare mention his parents, was beyond him. Closing his eyes for a moment, Malfoy interpreted this as weakness. Neville, however, had simply closed his eyes to remember the kind words his mother had written to him. About being brave. About being good, and kind.

Neville opened his eyes again, and closed the compartment door behind him as he left, without saying a word.

Eventually, he found Trevor.

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><p><strong>AN: I hope you liked it! Please review and let me know what you think! More chapters soon! Please review! Cookies for those that do!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I just want to say hello to all my lovely readers and reviewers, and thank you for the fantastic response I have had to this fic. **

**Enjoy! Love from me x**

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><p><em>Dear Neville<em>

_So as you read this, which should be opened on your first night in your dormitory, I'm trying to imagine what you will be like. Are you sat on your bed? Are you reading this in the common room? I wish I was ...alive to know. I know I'm still alive, but not being able to know you...it feels as though I may as well be dead. I just can't imagine my life without you. _

_Anyway, enough depressing talk! Nev, I know you might be feeling down at the moment. I know that the sorting hat took a long time to decide which house you should be in. I also know that you are in Gryffindor. That's the same house that your father and I were in. _

_I'm guessing, but I think you might be feeling lonely at the moment. Like you shouldn't really be in this house, because it took so long to decide. I'm just trying to think how I would feel in your situation. If I'm wrong, then ignore me and I'm glad you're happy :) But from what I'm told, at this time you are very quiet. _

_I just want to say, Neville, that you do belong. Your house becomes your family. And don't forget that I do know something of what your future life will be like. So believe me when I say that you DO belong here. _

_At the moment, in my time, you are four weeks old. And already, your smile makes my heart are such a good person Neville, just believe in yourself. _

_And don't worry that you ran off wearing the sorting hat...to make people laugh, even unintentionally, is a talent_,_ a gift greater even than that of magic. And if you are confident in yourself, people will laugh with you, not at you. _

_I will love you forever and always, _

_Your mummy, Alice._

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><p>Neville lay on the scarlet sheets of his new, four poster bed, staring at the silken canopy. He could hear the hustle and bustle of his new dorm mates around him. The four boys - Weasley, Finnigan, Thomas and, unbelievably, Potter, seemed nice enough. On the train,Potter had told him that his toad would turn up, and thankfully he was right.<p>

Neville was also glad that his friend Hermione was in his house,she would be somebody he knew. She seemed clever too, maybe they could study together, and he could finally prove that he was a good wizard.

Neville hadn't been scared when the ghosts had made their annual appearance to the first years. Someone had screamed, and a girl stood next to Neville had jumped, overall there were a lot of gasps. But Neville had enjoyed it. His Gran had often taken him to visit what she called historical wizarding sighs and towns, and Neville had seen and met many ghosts there. His Gran had hoped that Neville would absorbed some of the 'magical culture', and somehow do some magic, but it hadn't happened. Neville still remembered her – badly masked – disappointment.

Granted, none of the ghosts in those towns had had a head that appeared to be on hinges, like Sir Nicholas, but they were still just ghosts, and Neville knew they couldn't hurt him. Hermione had looked rather scared, and Neville had shyly told her not to be scared, which she seemed grateful for.

Neville hadn't really spoken to anyone else...she had helped him look for his toad, and had introduced herself to him. Speaking to people first just seemed...somehow, scarier than the ghosts.

He thought back to the boat ride up to the school. Even though he had visited many castles over the years, nothing could prepare him for the sight of Hogwarts. It had been wet, and windy, and Hermione had talked non stop in his ear. But even so, it felt like he was uncovering something... fantastic. His parents had been here. They had laughed, and been happy here. Maybe he would be too. He hoped so.

He had just read the letter from his mother. He had no idea how his mother knew so much, but at this time, he was so thankful that she did. He'd been to visit her the day before his first day at school.

His father had simply turned away and looked out of the window when Neville walked in. His mother had seemed to know his grandmother, but not him. Not him. That killed Neville. Sure, Alice wasn't exactly say gossiping with his gran, but there was a shade of recognition in her eyes. There was nothing for him.

Nothing except the letters.

Neville had been so embarrassed when he ran off with the sorting hat. The hat had taken forever to sort him, and Neville had nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice whispering in his ear that he was a difficult lad to place.

Ultimatley, his mother was right. Neville didn't feel brave enough to be in Gryffindor. He knew that was what his house was famous for, outstanding bravery and good heart. Neville had never done anything brave. He hadn't even stood up to his great uncle Algie when he had pushed him off of Blackpool pier to see if he had magic in him. He had at least thought his grandmother would be worried about him, seeing as he'd nearly drowned, but she'd been crying with happiness when Neville finally pulled himself out of the water, aged eight.

Neville hugged his knees close to his chest, and looked at the letter on the bed in front of him. His mother seemed to have such a good idea of the way he would be feeling. She had probably been told, somehow, but Neville liked to imagine that she knew because they were similar people. That somehow, even though he didn't know her, he was like her. That thought comforted him.

She said that she loved him. She said it in every letter. He trailed his fingers lightly lover the ink on the page. She had touched this paper, had been thinking of him. He couldn't bring himself to associate the woman who wrote him these letters, with the woman he visited in was almost like the woman who wrote him letters was a spirit of his imagination.

Neville laid down onto his bed, and imagined that he could feel arms around him, comforting him. He drifted off to sleep, smiling.

He woke up the next day, still smiling. He didn't feel totally a part of Gryffindor. But when he got up, Ronald Weasley grinned at him. Harry Potter asked him how he'd slept. Dean Thomas asked him if Trevor was ok, and Seamus Finnigan explained the rules of the muggle sport, football to him.

Walking down to breakfast, he felt a little better. Gryffindor was not just about bravery, he remembered. It was about loyalty too. He didn't feel brave yet, but these were the first friends he had really had, and already, he felt loyal to them. And more brave when he was with them.

Maybe Hogwarts would be OK. Maybe he did belong.

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><p><strong>AN: So i know it's short, but I hope you like it. Chapters will be longer the further into the book I get, so stick with me ****Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you to all my lovely readers and reviewers, I hope you are enjoying the fic!**

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><p>"<em>To be opened after your first potions lesson."<em>

_Dear Neville_

_So I've heard that your first potions lesson won't have been an enjoyable experience for you. In fact, if my sources are correct, you should be sat in the hospital wing, recovering, having had a potion spilt on you that will have given you lots of boils. _

_My poor baby. I wish I could be there for you. I want to be the kind of mummy who sits with her son when he is ill, reads him stories, strokes his back, and tells him everything is going to be OK. I can do all this for you now, but by the time you read this letter, all I can do is say in writing that things will be OK. I know the future, you can trust me. _

_I've also heard Professor Snape is particularly mean to you. I knew Severus Snape when he was in school. He never seemed very happy. I'm not going to defend the way he treats you, because from what I've heard he truly is horrible, but I do have some advice for you._

_I'm so excited, this is the first piece of motherly advice I've been able to give!_

_People always act the way that they do for a reason. I don't mean that it's your fault that he's mean to you, I just mean that he's clearly not very happy, and I wonder why that is. While I know this probably doesn't comfort you, hopefully it will help you to understand a little better, and know that this isn't your fault. You are a good person, and a good wizard no matter what he says. _

_I'm trying to imagine how you are finding hogwarts. Do you have favourite lessons? Are you happy with your dorm mates? Do you like quidditch? (That's your father's question, not mine!) _

_It makes me want to weep, to think that I may never know these things about you._

_I will love you always_

_Your mummy, Alice. _

Neville liked the way that the letters were always signed, ' your mummy, Alice'. It was like he was being reminded that he did have parents, not just empty shells who couldn't recognise him.

His first potions lesson had been a total disaster. Snape had basically yelled at Harry, told them all to make a boils curing potion, and then yelled at Neville when it went wrong.

Neville did feel bad that he'd melted Seamus's cauldron though. He'd have to try and buy him a new one over Christmas with his pocket money. He'd just been so nervous around Snape...

Neville had had lessons when he had been at home with his grandmother. He'd been taught basic potions, transfiguration and charms by a tutor who was very nice but always seemed slightly impatient, like she expected more from him.

All of the basics Neville had been taught just flew out the window when he was in a classroom with professor Snape. It was so dark, dingy, and scary. The man seemed to have no patience for any kind of mistake.

Neville absent mindedly rubbed his arm while he sat on the hospital wing bed, thinking. Madame Pomfrey had given him a potion to take to clear the boils, and he was just waiting for it to take effect. There had been pain, real, true, scorching pain when those boils had started to erupt from the potion. Neville didn't like pain.

It made him think of his parents, and what they'd been through. To make the world a safer place. For him.

Madame Pomfrey was strict, Neville thought, but reminded him of his grandmother a little. Whenever Neville had been ill as a child, his grandmother had made it better. Not as a mother would...there was no comforting. But his grandmother had been very...matronly. She would always make sure that Neville was physically well, and took lots of rest when ill. She had even,on the rare occasion, given him a one armed hug.

He tried to think of what his mother said.

There was probably a reason Snape was so bad tempered.

It didn't make it any easier to deal with - Neville knew he would still shake and mess up in the lessons. But Neville wanted to be a good person, so he tried to understand.

Neville also wondered, what his reason was. If everyone was the way they were for a reason...why was Neville himself, what he was. He didn't think he was particularly like his parents...but then he'd never met them, he'd just been told how great and good they were, by other people. Mainly his grandmother.

She seemed to miss her daughter so much.

Neville scanned his eyes over the letter from his mother again. She seemed so young. Neville always thought of parents as being true adults, who always knew what to do and never seemed to get excited. Adults who knew what to do, and could make everything better with the wave of a wand.

But here, in this letter, his mum was asking him questions, getting excited over giving him advice, and wondering how his life would be.

It made Neville smile.

Maybe, he thought, there was a way he could reply. The woman who had written him these letters was the same woman he visited in 's. He couldn't tell the lady writing the letters anything, but, if when he went to visit, he talked to his mum, and answered her questions...maybe on some level she'd understand.

Maybe it would even make her better.

The healers had told Neville and his gran that there was no hope. They would never regain their sanity. Neville did not hope for that. But to be recognised, just once, by his mother...that would be the best gift he could ever have.

He thought back to the questions in the letter.

He did like his dorm mates, very much. The Slytherins had taken to teasing Neville, and even the Ravenclaws got exasperated with him at times. But Dean and Seamus would always defend him, and Neville was glad of that. He didn't hang around with Harry and Ron much, but they were always nice to him too. It was like having proper, true friends.

So far, Neville didn't have a favourite lesson. The professor who was the nicest to him was Professor Sprout, who taught Herbology. Neville couldn't say he'd taken much interest in the subject so far, but to be in the greenhouses was soothing, and he did like it there. He was good at it too. Maybe that was because it took less magical skill,and more being practical and good with your hands, Neville thought gloomily.

He wasn't hugely into quidditch either. He knew he had his first flying lesson next week, and he was quite nervous about it. He'd never flown a broomstick before,and wasn't that great with heights.

Sometimes, Neville thought, I do wonder why the hat chose me for this I'd be better in Hufflepuff? At least I wouldn't let them down by not being brave.

As Neville passed the time by thinking, the minutes and hours ticked by. Eventually, it was time for lunch, and Madame Pomfrey said he could go, that the boils were all healed now.

Smiling and thanking her, Neville headed off to the great hall. He'd try not to dwell too much on how he angered Snape...and knew that in all likelihood, he'd be doing it again soon anyway. Overall, Neville had a lot of bad thoughts. But he was still cheery. If there was one thing he'd learnt from repeated visits to 's, bad thoughts never made anything better.

Neville was simply, excited by his plan. Life was beginning to look was going to try and get his mother to recognise him. That thought made him happier than any other, and he felt as if he had a balloon of happieness swelling in his chest. Added to that, Dean and Seamus seemed pleased to see him, and Trevor hadn't escaped yet that week.

Things were looking good.

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><p><strong>I hope you like it! Please review, and let me know what you think! Cookies for those that do!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So, firstly, a big thank you to all my readers and reviewers! You both motivate and inspire me, I love to hear from you. **

**Secondly, to anyone who is confused, when Harry time travelled, he told Alice everything he knew about Neville. So Alice knows about everything that happened to Neville that Harry was present for. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Dear Mum<em>

_I know you won't understand why I'm calling you mum, because you don't remember me. But you've written me letters, and a tiny part of me still hopes that one day you will know me. And if that ever does happen, I want there to be a record of what happens in my life, so that your questions get answered._

_I love you mum. _

_You were right, my first potions lesson was horrid. Snape really picks on me. But I guess there must be reason. I hope the reason isn't just that I'm the most terrible student ever!_

_I don't have any favourite lessons yet, but my herbology professor is really nice to me. _

_My friends are fantastic! My two best ones are Dean and Seamus, and they always stick up for me and make sure I'm OK. Harry and Ron are also in my dorm, and they're OK too. I made a friend called Hermionie too, she's nice, she helped me find my toad._

_I haven't played quidditch yet, my first flying lesson is today. Hopefully one day I'll be able to tell you and dad all about it, and I know I have a letter to read from you later._

_I guess that's all for now. _

_I love you. _

_Neville. _

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><p>Neville whistled cheerily as he walked down to breakfast. He had his first flying lesson today, and a letter to read later, so overall it should be a good- if nervous- day. At least Hermione was almost as nervous as he was.<p>

He saw that Harry and Ron were already at breakfast, and feeling brave, he went and sat with them. Smiling at them, he munched happily on his toast, feeling quite contented.

Listening to the inane chit chat around him- quidditch, etc - he didn't notice the large barn own swooping towards him until it was practically on top of him. Which was a shame, because it made him shriek slightly, which made everyone laugh at him.

Blushing, he removed the parcel from his Grandmother's owl, and started to open it.

Neville was very glad to see that it was a rememberall. He'd used them frequently at home, and Harry, who had never seen one before, looked interested and started asking him what it was.

Neville stuttered slightly - he was still very aware that Harry was famous and good, much better than he was. Still, by the time they walked down to the quidditch pitch, Harry Ron and Neville were laughing together as if they'd known each other years.

Hermione followed slightly behind - she still didn't get on with the two lads, and didn't want anyone to know she was nervous. She'd read all she could about flying, but had told Neville the night before in a whisper that she was really scared.

Neville was just beginning to relax, and forget about flying, when he felt somebody snatch his rememberall out of his hand. Whipping around, shortly followed by Harry and Ron, he could see that it was Malfoy, who was smirking.

"Just thinking that there were people who would benefit from this more, Longbottom." Malfoy smirked, keeping his voice low. McGonagall had already caught him tormenting Neville today, so he was being more careful.

Neville didn't say a word.

"Like, your parents, for example."

Neville still didn't say a word.

"They sure have a lot to remember don't they?"

Malfoy continued to egg Neville on. Neville continued to keep silent.

Harry and Ron, who didn't know Neville's parents, continued to be confused.

Neville continued to break inside.

Luckily, at that moment, Madame Hooch strolled onto the pitch, and Malfoy quickly threw the rememberall back to Neville before taking his place on the pitch.

Harry and Ron went over to the pitch too, leaving Neville slightly behind. Neville put the small ball into his pocket, taking his time, so that he could wipe away the tears before anyone saw them.

Something always had to spoil his nice days. And to make matters worse, now he had to fly too.

Looking at the brooms on the floor, he took a space next to Hermione, and took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he tried to think calming thoughts, but only succeeded in thinking about how good his father supposedly was at quidditch.

This was not a helpful thought.

Neville wished he wasn't getting his first ever flying lesson from Madame Hooch. He wanted it from his dad.

Snapping out of his daydream, Neville was alarmed to realise that Madame Hooch had been giving instructions the whole time, and he had missed half of them!

Panicking, Neville listened to what she was saying.

"Place your hand over the broom, and say, UP!" Madame Hooch commanded, which everyone did.

Harry's broom flew straight up, whereas Hermione's simply rolled over on the ground.

Neville felt ashamed. His hadn't moved at all. Maybe the broom somehow knew that he didn't want to fly.

Madame Hooch sighed, and picked up the broom. She demonstrated how to mount the broom, which panicked Neville even more.

Desperate to get it right, he clambered straight onto the broom, somehow knowing that he was going to be last. He wasn't even going to be able to take off. He closed his eyes tight, and waited for the whistle.

He was so, so nervous! He thought about what he'd been told to do.

Kick off from the ground, hard.

So he did that.

Unfortunately, he did it without waiting for the whistle, and with his eyes closed, rose higher and higher, away from his classmates.

Opening his eyes, he gasped. He was so high! Too high! Quickly, he made to grasp his broom handle tighter, but somehow missed, and suddenly-

Terrifyingly!

He was falling.

He remembered letting out a small sob before he hit the ground, face down, and landed with a crack.

His broomstick kept rising, and floated away.

He couldn't believe he'd fallen. How would his dad have felt? He'd have hated him.

Madame Hooch helped him up, and took him to the hospital he had a broken wrist.

Neville didn't say a word, or look at anyone while he was in the hospital wing. He was too ashamed.

He felt as though all the teachers were looking at him, whispering, saying how little he was like his parents, what a disappointment he would have been.

It wasn't until Harry visited him in the Hospital wing, and handed him back his rememberall, that Neville even realised it was even missing.

Neville sat, and listened to Harry talk. He was excited. Apparently he had been made seeker of the Gryffindor quidditch team.

Neville was happy for him. He smiled.

He wondered if his parents would have been happier with a son like Harry.

It should have been me, he thought glumly. I should be good at flying, and clever, and somebody to be proud of.

He spent the night in the hospital wing. Feeling alone.

He even forgot all about the letter that he had to read.

The letter, like his rememberall, had been in his pocket. And like his rememberall, it had fallen out.

It floated, gently blown along by the wind, over the pitch, and eventually into the lake. Over many weeks it would dissolve, and no-one would ever know it had existed.

Neville would never read it.

It was only a short letter, but it would have helped.

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><p><em>Dear Neville<em>

_Today is the day you have your first flying lesson. _

_Your dad is really keen to know how it went, he wishes he could have taught you. _

_I have to tell you though, I was so scared of flying. It just doesn't seem safe. Or sane! The first time I tried to fly, I couldn't even make the broomstick move. And I fell off, like, all the time. I hurt myself more times than you could imagine. _

_We don't care how good you are at flying, son. _

_We love you. You're our baby boy. We will __always__ be proud of you. _

_Until next time, remember that we love you. _

_Your mum, and dad, _

_Alice and Frank. _

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><p><strong>AN: Please review! Tell me what you think! I love to know!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello everybody! Apologies for the length between updates my internet hasn't been working. **

**Also I have an idea for this fic that I'd really like to talk over with someone, so please review and let me know if you're upf or it :) **

**On with the show!**

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><p>Neville sat outside the portrait of the fat lady, annoyed with himself that he had once again forgotten the password to Gryffindor tower. He had just been released from the hospital wing after his flying lesson injury, and had been looking forward to a night in his comfy four poster bed.<p>

Unfortunately, as he'd walked closer to the portrait, he'd realised his mind was drawing a blank. Which was a shame, because it was after curfew, and if Filch caught him, he'd be a very dead Neville.

Sighing, knowing that there wasn't much that he could do, he sat down underneath the portrait to wait for someone to let him in.

The sensible thing to do would have been to go back to the hospital wing, and spend the night there.

Neville had not yet developed 'sensible'.

He was just dropping off to sleep, when somebody stepped on him from above. Moving quickly out of the way, he realised that it was Ronald Weasley, closely followed by Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

They appeared to be arguing. Again.

Despite this, however, Neville was glad to see them, because they'd be able to tell him the password.

"The Password's 'pig snout'," Ron said, impatiently. "But it won't help you now because the fat lady's gone off somewhere." He said it with a note of grim satisfaction, seemingly happy that that fact had annoyed Hermione, who was trying to get into the tower, having only followed them out to finish the argument about rule breaking.

"I hope you're happy now." Hermione huffed, crossing her arms.

"How's your arm?" Asked Harry, seemingly not wanting to get involved in the argument. Neville was grateful for the question, he didn't want to get involved either.

"Yeah it's fine thanks." Neville said, with a small smile.

"Good- well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere so we'll see you later-" Harry started, sending a significant look to Ron, who nodded.

"Don't leave me!" Neville blurted out, suddenly embarrassed.

Ron glared at both Neville, and Hermione.

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learnt that curse of the bogies Quirrel taught us about and used it on you!"

Harry nodded grimly, and he and Ron walked away, Hermione and Neville following behind. Neville had no idea what was going on, and took the opportunity to ask Hermione, even though she still seemed rather angry.

"Those stupid boys have decided they are going to break the rules, and have dragged you and I into their little squabbles too!" She hissed, not even trying to keep her voice down, clearly letting Harry and Ron know what she thought of their escapades.

"But…what are we doing?" Neville asked, still confused.

"Draco Malfoy challenged them to a duel, and the buffoons are determined to do it." She sighed, annoyed that she was even there.

"I came out to tell them not to, and now I'm stuck being part of it." She finished, glaring at their backs as they walked throughout the moonlit school.

Eventually, they reached the third floor, to see that Malfoy and Crabbe were no where to be found. Neville was still a little mystified as to why they would want to duel at all, but then he supposed that not everybody was as great a coward as him.

Harry and Ron were just starting to whisper to themselves, when they all heard Filch talking to Mrs Norris in the next room. Freezing suddenly, they all exchanged looks of pure terror. Making a mad dash for the door, Neville's robes had barely whipped around the corner in time before Filch entered through the door on the other side of the room.

Breathing heavily, they all hid on the other side of the wall. Unfortunately, the door that they had gone through had simply lead to a room filled with more trophies, with no other way out.

They could hear Filch getting closer and closer, and waited for him to come into the room so that they could sneak out behind his back.

Neville was panicking. He could hear Filch getting closer, and his breathing getting louder and louder. He didn't want to be kicked out of school, he didn't want to be a let down, he just wanted to be good for his grandmother and make her proud.

Panicking, Neville broke into a run too early, and crashed into Ron. Loud, banging, metal sounds echoed around them, and Filch ran into the room, as Ron and Neville managed to knock over nearly all the trophies.

"RUN!" Harry cried, and everyone sprinted from the room, leaving Filch looking dazed, having tripped over one of the many trophies on the floor.

Harry was taking the lead, Neville only hoped he knew where he was going as they ran through the castle, trying to get away from Filch. Pausing for breath, Neville groaned as Peeves floated up above them, taunting them.

Harry was having a desperate conversation with the ghost, pleading with him to keep quiet, but all Neville could hear was the sound of his own rasping breath in his lungs – he was exhausted.

Suddenly, Peeves cried out, and it was time to start running again. Running blindly down the corridors, doors slamming, until they finally seemed to reach an empty, quiet classroom, away from prying eyes.

Breathing heavily, and looking at his feet, Neville could already hear that the trio he was with had started bickering again about whose fault this was.

Neville's vision was swimming in front of his eyes. He must have been so scared that he was hallucinating too, because stood in front of him he thought that he could see a massive three-headed dog. And that couldn't be real. All the same, Neville tugged on Harry's sleeve.

Harry shrugged him off.

Neville tugged again, his heart in his throat.

He hoped to got the big, massive, impossible dog in front of him wasn't real.

However when Harry gasped, and Ron and Hermione stopped arguing, Neville knew that this impossible nightmare was real.

Somehow, they were in the forbidden room, on the third floor corridor.

Neville could hear Harry grasping for the doorknob, and thanked Merlin that someone in the room had an ounce of common sense.

Scrambling out of the doorway at the first chance he got, Neville knew he never wanted to go back into that room again. He didn't care why the dog was there, he just wanted to get away from it.

Luckily, Filch was nowhere to be seen, and Neville sent up a silent prayer that it didn't seem as though he was going to be getting expelled today. Or, on an added plus side, eaten by a three headed dog.

They raced back to the common room, Neville never having been more glad to see that the fat lady was in her own portrait.

He stood, shakily in the common room. The others were ignoring him, and talking excitedly about the dog. Neville shook his head and walked away. He never wanted to see the damn thing again.

Climbing into bed, he was still shaking. He knew he wasn't brave, and he didn't care. If brave involved being excited about three headed dogs who were going to eat you, Neville wanted nothing to do with it.

Reaching into his bedside cabinet he pulled out a stack of letters. Tonight, he needed some comfort.

Rifling through the letters he'd opened, he tried to select one to read. Towards the back there were several unopened letters, and Neville looked at the cursive writing on the front.

"To read on the day you encounter the big dog."

That was odd. How on earth could his mother know about that? There were only 3 other people in the world who knew.

Neville had been down this path many times before. He wished he knew how his mother knew all these things. But, unless a miracle happened, he never would.

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><p>"<em>Dear Neville<em>

_I love you so much. _

_I heard, from my sources, that whilst in your first year, you will accidentally run into a massive three headed dog. _

_That must have been so scary for you. I'd have cried, and screamed, and probably had a panic attack. I know you're probably not feeling very brave right now. But you were there for your friends, and I'm sure they appreciate that. _

_I appreciate you. So much. I wish I could see you grow up. If I were there I'd comfort you, and tell you that it's OK to be scared. Everyone is scared of something. I'm scared of lots of things. Even your dad is scared of moths! _

_And let me tell you, it's certainly OK to be afraid of three headed dogs!_

_Just don't go getting yourself caught if you decide to wander around school after hours again. _

_Love, mum."_

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><p>Neville smiled. He'd never understood what 'to read when you meet the big dog' was about, but now he did.<p>

And knowing that somebody understood, having been told it was OK to be scared…..just felt so good. So so good.

He wondered if his parents were scared sometimes. If somewhere, deep inside, they were trapped in their bodies, with their memories waiting to get out.

Their letters were helping him. And he was determined that one day, he would help them too.

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><p><strong>AN: Is it too boring? Should I deviate away from the books?**** Tell me what you think!**

**I had an idea I'd like to go over with someone for a story….someone please tell me in a review if it's OK to PM you and see what you think! I think it could be a wicked idea **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: OK, so it's been a while, but I've been really ill, please forgive me?**

**Also, to Rubyfresh**,** the answer to your question is yes, he will be involved.**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

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><p>Neville was in the library. He hadn't been doing too well in all his subjects, and had a tendency to struggle in lessons. Particularly in defence, because it was there he felt the most pressure. His parents were Aurors, so he felt as though people thought he should naturally be talented in the subject.<p>

So, as it was, Neville had been in the library, trying to do a piece of homework Professor Quirrel had set. He was a strange man. But at least he made Neville relax in his presence. There was no way a man who stuttered as much as Quirrel did could be seen as intimidating.

Running his hands through his hair, Neville sighed. It was getting towards curfew, and he'd spent most of the evening alone. Dean and Seamus were in detention, having melted one of Snape's cauldrons the day before. Ron and Hermione were in the common room, and Harry was playing quidditch.

Neville was grateful to Harry for getting his rememberall back, but he did think it was a little unfair that Harry was the only first year in the school allowed to play quidditch. Neville himself didn't want to play, his previous lesson on the broom having been quite enough thank you very much, but his morals said it wasn't fair to bend the rules for one person unless there was a very good reason.

Packing his quill and parchment into his bag, Neville stood up to leave the library. Madame Pince was dimming the lanterns behind him, and as he walked out the library was finally overtaken by darkness.

The corridors were still lit, just, and it was enough light that Neville could tell that the person approaching him was none other than Draco Malfoy. The dim, orangey light was glinting on his platinum hair as he moved closer, his arms folded across his chest.

Neville kept his mouth shut, and had every intention of walking past Malfoy and straight back up to the Gryffindor common room. But, inevitably, things never go to plan.

Neville had passed him in the corridor, and was just beginning to breathe steadily again, when his legs seized up, and he topped over face first, onto the floor. He cried out as he fell, trying to stay calm.

He could hear Malfoy behind him, his dragon hide boots clicking on the floor, the sound echoing off the walls.

"I've been looking for someone to practice that on." Malfoy sneered, not bothering to help Neville to turn over or stand up. Neville remained face down, breathing heavily into the floor, angrily.

"But then the leg locker curse isn't massively complicated. Not like that _terribly tricky_ 'wingardium leviosa' you've been struggling with." Malfoy chuckled again, having mastered the spell within the first ten minutes of the class.

"Tell me, Longottom." Malfoy continued in what Neville supposed was a leisurely voice.

"How does it feel to be like your parents?"

Neville's heart skipped a beat.

Malfoy kneeled down next to Neville's feet, knowing full well that Neville could still move the top half of his body, and keeping well clear.

His voice was soft, but just loud enough for Neville to hear.

"Being helpless, knowing I could destroy you now, and you'd be able to do nothing. Only, unlike your parents, it's not because I've trapped you."

Malfoy paused, allowing for anticipation, knowing he was angering Neville.

"In your case, you just don't have the ability."

Neville listened to the click of Malfoy's boots as he walked away. He still couldn't move his legs.

Angry, hot tears leaked from Neville's eyes. Malfoy was right. Neville was not brave, or clever, or talented in any way. He would have been a disgrace to his parents.

Sure, his mother would be nice about it if she was here. But his father? Neville was just thankful he'd never have to see disappointment in his father's eyes. Disappointment required recognition.

How could his father be disappointed in a small, talentless, cowardly boy that he didn't even know.

Neville closed his eyes, and grimaced. He couldn't lay in the corridor forever. Using his arms, he slowly turned himself over so that he was laying on his back, and sat up.

He was shaking. His whole body, his whole breath, his soul, was shaking. With years of pent up sadness and frustration.

Nobody said Hogwarts would be this hard.

Somehow, Neville managed to stand up. His muscles strained, not used to not being able to move. Luckily for Neville, the Gryffindor common room was not too far away from the library, so he didn't have far to hop.

When he reached the fat lady, he paused. He knew the password this time. It was just...he knew. Everybody would laugh.

'Shut up!' he whispered to himself. These people are my friends, they won't laugh. They won't laugh.

They laughed.

With the exception of Hermione, who immediately leapt up to help him, the whole common room erupted into peals of laughter.

As Hermione issued the counter curse, Neville's legs sprang apart, and he got to his feet, shaking. Partly from muscle strain, partly from shame.

"What happened?" Hermione asked him urgently, leading him over to sit with the still chucking Harry and Ron, who at least had the grace to try and look as though they weren't laughing. They failed, but they were at least trying.

"Malfoy." Neville said shakily, making a very quick choice not to tell them the full story. As far as Neville was aware, nobody knew the story of his parents, and he didn't fancy having to explain.

"He told me he'd been looking for someone to practice on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged him. "Report him!"

Neville shook his head.

"I don't want to make it worse." He mumbled.

"You've got to stand up to him Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor," Neville choked. "Malfoy has already done that."

Awkward silence settled over the small group, until Neville felt a small tap on his arm. Harry was holding out a chocolate frog, with a small smile on his face.

Neville felt as though he might cry.

"You're worth 12 of Malfoy." Harry said, supportively. "The sorting hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog. They were the first words of support that he had received that had actually been spoken out loud, not written in a letter by people who didn't really know him.

"Thanks Harry...I think I'll go to bed...D'you want the card, you collect them don't you?"

Neville scanned the card over quickly, before passing it on to Harry. Something about Albus Dumbledore, his life, his achievements, and a bloke called Nicholas Flamed. Lord knows who he was.

Neville stood up, having been patted on the shoulder by Hermione, and walked to his dormitory.

His first year seemed to have taken forever. He'd been home for Christmas, and was now back again, and with nothing to really look forward to, the months had seemed to drag immensely for Neville.

Although, maybe, he might have friends soon. Neville didn't think he was worth 12 of Malfoy, but it was nice to have someone tell him that he was.

Someone who could possibly be a friend.

For the first night in a long time, Neville went to bed without needing to read a letter from his parents. He went to bed ... not quite happy, but almost.

And for the first time in years, Neville didn't dream of torturous screams, that seemed to tear apart his soul.

He dreamed of cheese.

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><p><strong>AN: So, I know it's short but I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think! I still have ideas bouncing around if people want to talk about them!**

**Also, for anyone who is not a member, but wants to talk ideas, my email is on my profile :) Drop me a line!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I really enjoyed reading the lovely reviews from my last chapter :) Found out that I'm being made redundant next week, so they really cheered me up. **

**Anyways, I hope that you enjoy this chapter :) **

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><p>Neville woke up the next morning, feeling warm and happy. Harry's words still rang in his ears.<p>

"_You're worth twelve of Malfoy." _

He'd never been told that he was better than anyone before. He'd always been trying to live up to the reputation of his parents, who he knew were better than him. And he'd never quite been good enough, but now, he'd been told, he was better than Malfoy.

Smiling, Neville rifled though a stack of envelopes that were kept next to his bed. He never took them out of order, because they'd always seemed to go in the order that he needed them. He didn't know how his mother knew his life, but it seemed she did.

The letter on the top of the pile was in a different handwriting to his mother's.

It simply said:

_To read when you need to feel confident. _

Neville set aside the rest of the letters, and opened it curiously.

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><p><em>Hello son. <em>

_It feels very strange to be writing this letter to you. Your mother has been writing them for a long time, and has been asking me to as well. I'm not so sure I want to believe that you'll ever need to read these. _

_But, just in case. If I'm not there to ever say it. _

_I love you. _

_I've loved you from the day you were born, and every day of my life since. _

_I heard that you will live with my mother. I know she can be a handful. I had a brother when I was younger, who died when I was eight. You probably don't know this, it's not something my mother likes to talk about. But, growing up, I never felt as good as him. _

_I don't want you to feel like that. _

_I know something of what you will be like when grown up, if your mother turns out to be right. And don't tell her I said this, but she always is. _

_You are fantastic just as you are. _

_If anybody tries to make you feel bad about yourself, ignore them. Because you are better than them. Worth a hundred of anyone who tries to make you feel bad. I already know, from knowing you as a baby, that you are good, and kind. _

_Don't lower yourself to the level of others who try to bring you down. _

_Just keep being you, and I will keep being a proud Dad. Even if I can't say it. _

_Love from Frank. Your Dad. Always, your Dad. _

* * *

><p>Neville smiled. Being able to read that was just the perfect way to wake up.<p>

He was amazed too. He hadn't expected to get a letter from his father, particularly not one that was so supportive. And he'd had an uncle! Who knew?

In his head, his father would have been stern, like his grandmother. He was so so happy to know that his father was not like that. And to hear that he was proud...was amazing.

Neville had always believed that when the letters said they loved him and were proud, he couldn't trust that. This was because he didn't think his parents knew him. But, over time, it was becoming obvious that his parents did know what was going on in his life. One day, Neville decided, he would figure out how they knew.

And he would make them better. He would help them to remember. They would be a family again.

It was weird to think that his parents who couldn't even recognise him, knew more about his life than his class mates did. Neville just didn't feel comfortable opening up to them knew that some pure blooded students must know who he was, like Ronald Weasley, but none had asked him anything. For which he was thankful.

He'd never talked about his parents. And he didn't want to start now.

It was just too private.

Feeling, if it was possible, in an even better mood than he had the night before, Neville got up and dressed.

Neville usually avoided looking in the mirror, as he didn't tend to like what he saw there. Usually, he just saw a slightly chubby, ugly boy, who nobody could love. Today, he stood in front of the mirror, and examined his face.

He knew what his mother looked like. And he knew what his father looked like.

Today, he studied his face. He could see his mother's eyes, and his father's nose. He had the same face shape as his mother, and the same, deep brown, neat hair as his father.

Today, Neville was not just Neville. He really felt as though he was the son of Alice and Frank Longbottom.

Walking down to breakfast, Neville was very happy. Today was a quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, which Snape was refereeing. Harry was playing, and at the last match he'd nearly been very badly hurt, so today Neville, Hermione and Ron would be cheering for him, and keeping an eye on what was going on.

Neville knew that Ron and Hermione had some suspicions that Snape had sabotaged the last match. He'd heard them talking about it one day at dinner. Neville didn't know if he believed that. He was very, very scared of his potions professor, but he didn't see why Snape would do that. Either way, he wasn't getting involved in crazy conspiracy theories. He was just there to cheer for Harry, and watch the match.

He met with Hermione and Ron and the breakfast table, Harry having already gone down to the Quidditch pitch.

Neville was still closer to Seamus and Dean, but he wanted to be friends with everyone, so he was trying to hang out with Hermione, Harry and Ron too. Hermione had been Neville's only friend at the start of term, but since an incident with a mountain troll, she'd been hanging out almost exclusively with Ron and Harry, leaving Neville some what alone. But instead of being bitter, Neville was just determined to win his way back to being her friend.

Swallowing down his bacon and eggs, Neville remained pretty quiet over breakfast. He was happy to nod along to the conversation going on around him, while thinking about the letter his father had written him.

He was so happy.

He continued to daydream, all the way down to the quidditch pitch, walking slightly behind Ron and Hermione, and then sitting next to them in the stands.

The match began, and Neville watched intently as Gryffindor promptly began to take the lead.

Looking up sharply when he heard Ron cry out, he realised that it was because he had been poked in the head. By Draco Malfoy.

"Oh sorry Weasley, didn't see you there."

Malfoy grinned at his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Wonder how long Potter is going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want to bet? What about you Weasley?"

Neither Ron, nor Hermione answered, choosing to focus souly on the game, and Harry's welfare. Neville followed their example, though he could feel himself getting more and more angry. And more and more shaky. Scared, and angry at the same time. It was an odd feeling.

He tried to remember his father's letter.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" Malfoy said loudly, a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason whatsoever. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who have no money - you should be on the team Longbottom."

Malfoy grinned at Neville as though daring him to react. Neville's heart had stopped. What was he about to say? Was everyone about to find out about his parents?

"you've got no brains." Malfoy said, leaning forwards.

Obviously not.

Neville went bright red, took a deep breath, and turned around in his seat to face Malfoy.

"I'm worth twelve of you Malfoy." he stammered.

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from he game, said, "You tell him Neville!"

Hermione, at this point, had turned in her seat and her hand was on Neville's arm. He took support from her, from Harry's words, and from his father's letter. He knew he was right.

"Longbottom, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something!" Malfoy howled, still laughing.

Ron's nerves were allready stretched to breaking point with anxiety about Harry. Crabbe and Goyle were staring daggers at Neville, as though daring him to say something more.

"I'm warning you Malfoy - one more word -" he began, stopping suddenly, gasping as Harry went into a spectacular dive.

"You're in luck Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some gold on the floor." Malfoy drawled, leaning back leisurely in his seat.

Ron snapped. So did Neville.

From far away they could hear Hermione screaming at Harry, who was chasing after the snitch like a bullet, but neither boy was really aware of that.

Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron and leapt on him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville did not hesitate, he threw himself straight into the battle to help.

Hermione was so focussed on the match, that she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the flurry of fists what was Crabbe, Goyle and Neville.

"Ron! RON! It's over! Harry's won!"

All the fighting suddenly stopped, Malfoy stared up in disbelief, Neville untangled himself from the pair of goons, and Ron scrambled to get a better view.

As Harry jumped off his broom, Neville watched Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle walk away. In the morning he would have a black eye, and a cut lip. But he would be smiling. He had stood up for himself.

As he headed back up to Gryffindor tower, for the after match party, Neville was beaming. His face ached, his head hurt, and his arms and legs felt as though he had been through a hurricane. Crabbe and Goyle were, after all, rather big lads. It felt as though he could do anything.

It had been the best day, ever.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, did anyone spot the small change I made to cannon events in this scene? I mean apart from the obvious letters :p**

**Please review, it makes my day!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: The next chapter is here! Sorry if it's been a long time, I've got 3 stories on the go, and just found out I start my new job on Thursday. Woo hoo ! Will be working with young people in the care system :) should be fun!**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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><p>Over the next few months, life at Hogwarts took on a sort of...normality for Neville. It was largely uneventful, and letters were few and far between. Neville was jut about keeping afloat with his school work, with occasional help from Hermione, and if you didn't include Malfoy insulting him at every opportunity, things were going pretty well.<p>

Winter eventually passed, and the sunshine, accompanied by spring, and warmer weather, broke through the fog and cloud. The sun grew stronger, and eventually flowers and plants bloomed, and seemed to announce that summer was on it's way. Summer, and exams. Blah.

Spring was fun for Neville. It felt like new beginnings. It felt like he could do anything. People tend to make resoloutions at New Years, but Neville preferred to make them in the spring, when everything felt new, and full of life.

This year, he didn't really have too much to say. He had friends -Dean, Seamus, and Hermione when she wasn't busy. And, when he wasn't feeling too down, Neville sometimes thought that Harry and Ron liked him too. After all, they were nice to him, and stuck up for him when Malfoy was around. They just always seemed so busy, so wrapped up in things. There was the buisiness with Malfoy, and the duel, then the suspicion of Snape, at the quidditch match. Suddenly, they seemed to be spending a lot of time at Hagrid's hut.

Neville simply shrugged it off. The trio seemed to be getting closer, and more well known, with each passing month. Neville was happy to be an unknown, it meant he kept out of trouble.

Well, except in class. He was constantly making mistakes, particularly in potions, and sometimes felt as though he was getting more useless with each passing day. That was his only resolution. Each night, silently in bed, he would wish he was smarter. Better. In any way. In any, small way.

Still, his friends liked him, even if his grandmother didn't.

Still, he was trying to make an effort. Today, for example, he'd spent the whole evening in the library, reading up for a potions essay due in the next week. He stayed there, until Madame Pince was dimming the lamps. Neville now knew from experience that he would be kicked out within minutes, so surrendering to the inevitable, he packed up his things, and left anyway.

But then, he hung back. He had seen Malfoy with his two goons walking down the corridor, and taken shelter in the library. He wasn't keen to repeat his experience from earlier in the year, and the idea of confronting Malfoy alone in a deserted corridor wasn't one that appealed to him anyway.

Looking down at his shoes, Neville's cheeks burnt read. He was hiding. He was ashamed.

Still, he kept his ears perked, wanting to know as soon as Malfoy had gone.

Suddenly, Neville froze.

"Potter thinks he's so special. So smart. Well I'm going to catch him." Neville could practically hear the smirk in Malfoy's voice, and leaned in a little further to hear clearly.

"He thinks he can do what he likes, and get away with smuggling out that great oaf's dragon."

Dragon?

"I'm going to get him. And he'll be sorry when I do."

Neville could hear Malfoy's voice fading as he walked away. Neville's good, calm evening was slowly fading too.

Once Malfoy was completely out of earshot, Neville sprinted in the opposite direction, panic filled.

Getting back to the common room in record time, he found it deserted, bar one pair of snogging seventh years.

No Harry there.

He quickly ran up to the first year boy's dormatory, and could clearly hear Seamus and Dean snoring in their beds. The curtains on Harry and Ron's beds were not drawn, and neither of them was in the room. Of course, Ron was in the hospital wing, but Harry wasn't. Ron had hurt his hand earlier that day...but Harry, and come to think of it, Hermione, hadn't been seen since.

Feeling sick, Neville dropped his things on the bed, trying to think of what to do next.

He couldn't let them get into trouble,or worse get caught by Malfoy. Or, god he his mind was running wild, get hurt by a dragon?

How the hell did they even get a dragon? Neville was panicked now, imagining a full grown monster, with spikes on it's tail and breathing flames. His friends would get burnt to pieces!

Standing up quickly, Neville left the room.

He walked into the darkness of the now deserted corridors. He hated the dark. It was usually filled with the unknown, and in his dreams, it was always darkness followed by hurt.

He had to find his friends. Sod his nightmares.

Even if it cost him house points, and the wrath of teachers, he would still have his friends and knowing that they were OK was the most important thing.

Unfortunately, before he could find them, Professor McGonagall found him.

Dragging him by the scruff of his collar into her office, Neville knew he was in trouble. He had planned not to say a word- but, somehow she already knew. She told him, in a very angry voice, that Fich was already out looking for Harry and Hermione, so he may as well tell her the truth.

Neville kept his mouth closed. He didn't know how much she knew, so would be saying nothing, to avoid getting his friends into even more trouble. But, from the sound of it, it didn't seem as though a dragon was roaming the corridors, for which Neville was immensely relieved.

Soon enough, Harry, Hermione and Fich came spilling into the office.

"Harry!" Neville burst out, the moment he saw the pair. "I was trying to find you to warn you, Malfoy said he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag-"

Harry shook his head violently to shut Neville up, which he did, but by then McGonagall had seen. She looked more likely to breathe fire than baby Norbert the dragon as she towered over the three of them.

Neville blushed. He knew he'd put his foot in it now. But he was just so glad that Harry and Hermione were OK.

"I would never have believed it of any of you." McGonagall began, speaking through gritted teeth.

"Mr Filch says you were in the astronomy tower." She was looking more at Harry and Hermione now. "it's one o'clock in the morning. _Explain yourselves."_

It was the first time Hermione had ever failed to answer a teacher's question. She was staring at her slippers, still as a statue.

"I think I have a good idea of what was going on." McGonagall continued, placing her hands, folded, on her desk.

"It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some nonsense story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble.I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it too?" She said in an accusatory tone.

Neville's face fell.

Harry caught Neville's eye,and tried to tell him without words that this wasn't true. Neville was looking stunned, and hurt. Poor, blundering Neville- Harry knew what it must have cost him, to try and find them in the dark, to warn them.

Neville looked away. He didn't want to catch Harry's eye.

He wished he'd never left the common room. Harry and Hermione must think he was such an idiot, to have been taken in by the story that they told Malfoly. He supposed that there never was a dragon,and there never was any danger.

He felt such a fool.

"I'm disgusted." Professor McGonagall said. "Four students out of bed, all in one night! I've never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense. As for you, Mr Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. All three of you will receive detentions - yes, you too, Mr Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around the school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous. And-" She hesitated. "Fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor."

"Fifty?" Harry gasped - they would lose the lead, the lead he'd won in the last quidditch match.

"Fifty points _each." _said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long and pointed nose.

"Professor - please - "

"You _can't-"_

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do get back to bed, all of you. I've never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students."

A hundred and fifty points lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one night, they'd ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the House Cup.

Neville felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach.

Not only had he made himself look like an idiot to Harry and Hermione, but come morning, everyone in Gryffindor would hate him anyway.

Neville cried that night, like he hadn't in months. It seemed as though it lasted hours. He knew Harry and Hermione hadn't lied directly to him...but it still hurt, none the less.

He didn't even want to hear them try to explain. He just went straight to bed.

How could he ever make up for this?

Neville was dreading the dawn. He knew that in the morning, his house would discover that through his own stupidity, he'd taken away any chance of beating Slytherin.

Neville cried himself to sleep that night. He knew Harry was awake too, but he didn;t care.

He just wanted to be invisible,to have kept his head down, to be the boy that no one knew. Come the morning, that would all be over.

Morning came, and passed. As the day wore on, Neville realised that he was not only attracting hatred from the Gryfindors, but also from the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

They had all been hoping that this year, the reign of Slytherin, who had won the house cup for the last 7 years, would finally end. Neville, Harry and Hermione had single handedly undone that.

Even the Slytherins were thanking him in the corridor.

All that Neville could do was keep to himself, study for his exams, and wait for his coming detention.

He was so lonely.

Lonelier than he had ever been at home. Before, he hadn't really had anything to miss. But now he knew what it was like to have friends, and had suddenly had them taken away. It was crueller than anything before.

At least he couldn't miss having loving parents, because he didn't know what it was like.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Neville, Harry and Hermione all received notes from Professor McGonagall.<p>

_Your detention will take place tonight at eleven o'clock. Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall. _

_Prof. M. McGonagall_

Neville, even though miserable, was bemused by this. Punish him for being out late at night by sending him out late at night? Fine, whatever.

Still, he kept that thought to himself. He'd learnt by now that nobody wanted to hear his opinion.

Trudging down to the entrance hall, slightly behind Harry and Hermione, Neville groaned when he realised Malfoy would be on the detention too.

That detention, was, hands down, the worst night Neville had ever experienced. And he'd had some bad nights.

Malfoy and Neville were sent, alone, with Hagrid's dog Fang, into the forest. Not only was Neville having to face one of his fears - the dark - but he was having to do it with Malfoy.

Every five seconds Neville thought he was seeing - and in some cases, really was seeing - creatures hidden behind bushes and up trees.

Malfoy was enjoying himself. Initially he had been scared too, but seeing how scared Neville was, he had taken an opportunity to terrorise the boy, and grasped it with both hands.

By half way through the detention, Neville was truly terrified, and shaking. Malfoy had decided it would be funny to sneak up behind him, and jump on him, pretending to be a 'creature of the night'. Neville had panicked. He'd shot sparks into the air, and thankfully, Hagrid, Ron and Hermione had come to find them.

Harry had tried to comfort him, by placing a hand on his shoulder, but Neville shrugged it off. He knew by now that Harry wasn't really his friend.

Neville and Harry switched places, and thankfully, the rest of the detention was spent with Hagrid, which made Neville feel much safer.

Neville wasn't exactly sure what the purpose of the detention had been. To collect some kind of potions ingredient he thought, but they hadn't found any. Maybe the purpose had been just to scare them.

Around one am, Hagrid sent Neville off to the Gryffindor common room, and went off to find Harry and Malfoy.

Neville had never been more glad to finish anything.

It was a miserable evening. It set of perfectly a miserable week, and what he knew would come to be a miserable month.

A month of no one talking to him. A month of being hated. A month of being back where he was at the start of the year.

So much for the new beginnings of spring, Neville thought bitterly.

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><p><strong>AN: So...I know this chapter is a bit of a downer...but stick with me! It is cannon! **

**Please let me know what you think :) reviews are a form of bribery for new chapters...**


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